You’re enough,
a diamond in the rough.
There are thousands of years
of coal being pressed behind your eyes,

a feral sort of charm,

a tightened knot disarmed.
You were just a chance in space,
a blind sense of an invisible chase,
an indescribable plight,
a set of light in my right eye


I’m still somehow seeking
a sense of belonging,
reassurance, I’ve already received.
There’s no more evidence needed.
I do belong,
even when I don’t.
I’m seeking more than your coal pressed eyes.
We are diamonds in the rough,
another life lesson cast upon me.
I’m enough, while my face stays the same.
Our faces remain here,
separate but still in one place.
Theres a certain radical acceptance,
that is to blame.
As quickly as my mind is changed,
I’ve learned nothing as
vast as learned beliefs,
never stay the same.




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